


Roxy ==> Fall in love with the kid in the shades.

by CrypticRoxann



Category: Homestuck
Genre: A little, ASL, Dave is a senior, Deaf, Disabilities, I WILL PROBABLY NEVER UPDATE IT BECAUSE I LOST THE PLANNING, Multi, Schoolstuck, Sign Language, Sorry Not Sorry, Speech Disorders, Stridercest - Freeform, THIS FIC IS DEAD, There is swearing, a ton of characters, all of the ancestors are teachers, all the canon kids and the alpha and beta trolls have had their last names changed, and a love triangle, and an eventual teacher/student thing, blind, daves poem is based off "The Fox" by Bernadette Hall, first fic, like all of them - Freeform, love me them striders, probably more than one actually, shittons of planning, sorry - Freeform, there are older versions of the humans who are unrelated teachers too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:30:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3658986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrypticRoxann/pseuds/CrypticRoxann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schoolstuck AU</p><p>You watch him when you’re sure he isn’t looking anymore. He’s wearing shades in class. You wonder if he’s even cool enough to pull that off. Judging by the envious looks from the boys at the back of the class, and the moony glance of the girl right beside him, he indeed possesses “the swag factor”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roxy ==> Fall in love with the kid in the shades.

Your name is Roxy, and today is your first day as an English teacher.

You start to walk towards the English block, but your attention is suddenly drawn to a loud boy with a grey sweater. You're surprised such a loud voice could come out of such a tiny young man, but never-the-less you have to reprimand him after he screeches: "If this feculent shit-lord of a truck driver doesn't move his fucking ass and let me walk across..."

You march quickly across the lot, lips pursed sternly. You watch his face as his eyes meet yours, and you get a flush of satisfaction as he simply mouths, "Shit."  
"What's your name young man?" You question sternly. You watch his eyes flicker before he blurts out an answer.  
"Uh, Gamzee Avery miss."  
You know he's lying of course, you saw him in the list of problem students in the staff room yesterday. "Mr. Athens that is an untruth. I do not appreciate untruths. Nor will I accept that sort of language to be bellowed across school, not least at 8am. Please follow me, you can remain in my classroom until its time for your first class."

It doesn’t take long before the bell rings, but by then Karkat has obtained a detention and several very stern looks. He was surprisingly calm by the time he had to head out. You didn’t get a break however, because it was then that your class started to file in. You wait until everyone is seated before getting up and scrawling your name across the whiteboard as you speak.

“We’re going to get a little bit old-school today. My name is Roxy, but you can all call me Miss Walker.” You punctuate this by underlining your name as you finish.  
“This is my first time leading a class, so if you promise to go easy on me, I won’t be too mean. Today all I want you to do is write me a single page, be it prose, a poem, a short story, a letter, whatever. It doesn’t have to be fantastic, but it’s a good way to wake up your brains, and give me a good idea of where you’re all at, as well as your writing styles and techniques. You have the whole rest of the period, starting now. I’m going to take the role presently so I can start learning all your names, so please stick up your hand and let me know you’re present so I know which name belongs to who.”

The class seems relieved to hear your first lesson seems so easy, except a girl with dark hair who is frowning at you suspiciously. You work out her name is Jade. You smile at her, but her frown is unwavering. That is, right until you catch another girl texting at the back of class. You take a quick glance at the role before striding to the back of class, stopping before her desk.

“Meenah Coulston, I strongly advise you stow that phone back in your bag, honey.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “Yeah, or what?”

You want to slap her, ooh boy do you ever. Instead, you purse your lips again, and smile sickly sweet. “Darlin, you’re gonna put that phone away right now, or I’m afraid I’m going to have to take it away and snap it up into lots of little tiny pieces. I’m sure you don’t want that now do you?”

The class sniggers quietly as she tamely shoves it into a pocket of her bag. “Thank you Miss Coulston, don’t let it happen again.”

You finish calling the role, but your attention keeps being drawn back to a student sitting near the front. He was looking at you intently the entire time, but now his nose is hovering rather close to the page, his pen flying, scrawling out whatever it is he’s chosen to write.  
“Okay class, I forgot to mention, you can listen to music while you do this if you have headphones.” You watch his shoulders suddenly relax as he dons a pair of overheads, and he smiles slightly at you before continuing.

You watch him when you’re sure he isn’t looking anymore. He’s wearing shades in class. You wonder if he’s even cool enough to pull that off. Judging by the envious looks from the boys at the back of the class, and the moony glance of the girl right beside him, he indeed possesses “the swag factor”.

You were so wrapped up in your thought process that you’re quite surprised when he clears his throat. You realise, even though those dark shades, that he’s looking right at you. Again. You realise you were probably staring, ducking your head back down and returning to marking essays. Your face is burning.

When you gain enough courage, you look up again. It could be your imagination, but you swear you see a flicker of a smirk playing on his lips as he returns to his writing.  
The rest of the period passes without incident, and you murmur a goodbye to the students as they file out, thanking them for working in silence so well. It’s not until the class is almost empty that you realise that there is an abandoned piece of prose left on a desk. It takes you all of a second to realise its Dave’s desk.

You sigh and cross over to the offending paper, resolving to return it to him tomorrow. You might as well mark it now.  
The first thing you notice is that he writes in red pen.

This cat, she’s a ribbon of light  
Floating down to splash upon the tiles  
Of a dark library floor.  
A bubble of laughter coaxed from the lips  
Of the angel of silence,  
Her perfume hangs like smoke  
A thumbprint on the air.  
She is a splash of pink on a white wall, simple,  
Though not loud, not agitated, not pulsing.  
She is completely dream and intelligence.  
The lyric cat drifts in front of my eyes  
Behind her desk  
Even this cannot hide the rosette of her cheeks.  
She watches me, and takes pause  
And I know right then, she’s a dagger.

At the bottom he’s signed a short note, and you realise with a start: he meant to leave this behind. He wrote this for you. That little shit.

Have a nice weekend Miss Walker. ;)  
turntechGodhead

Did… did one of your students just give you his Pesterchum? With a poem no less?

You might just have a tiny crush on your new student.

Your name is Roxann Walker, and you think you love your job.


End file.
